Roldare's sobbing slows for a moment, as he looks up to meet the eyes of the gnome. He slowly replies, taking deep breaths between parts of his response. "The angry bones... th-they... they took her... my sister Dimira. She's still alive... I know it. They just dragged her off... The voice took her... Walking bones... Middle of the night... Three nights ago... D-did nothing..." He stops solemnly for a moment, before continuing with a resolute look on his face. "One with the voice of death, who stalks these halls in ancient mail. I was certain of my own doom."
Roldare looks expectantly back at your group, as if truly noticing you for the first time. "You are from the village." It is not a question. "We..." his hand makes a motion to the room at large, where the villagers were obviously making arrangements for your arrival, but he soon drops his hand, and his head.